


Early Bird, Pretty Bird

by dawnishere



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 09:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12339813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnishere/pseuds/dawnishere
Summary: There's something in the air, and Keith's like, only 40% sure it's coffee.Turns out it's love





	Early Bird, Pretty Bird

**Author's Note:**

> A response to [space-peachx](http://space-peachx.tumblr.com/)'s [post](http://space-peachx.tumblr.com/post/166302288450/heith-coffeeshop-au-where-hunk-works-in-his-moms)
> 
> The first thing I've posted in a while, Heith-wise, but it's good to be back lol

There was beauty in the muffled atmosphere that permeated the street below Keith’s apartment in the early morning hours. The horizon bled pink and red, the sun barely peeking over the towering apartment buildings that took up the view outside his bedroom window. Was it morning already? His head felt like he was swimming under water and a headache was already forming behind his left temple. His 6:26am alarm had yet to go off and he sighed as he turned it off for the day. He never regretting anything more than everything that led up to this moment. Keith covered his mouth with his hand tiredly as a long yawn wracked his jaw.

In the background, the printer whirred noisily, sputtering as it printed the last few pages of his paper. He let the blanket he’d wrapped himself in fall back onto the bed as he shuffled over to the printer. _Systems of Reciprocity in Post-Colonial Melanesia_ read the cover page as he ordered the pages quickly. His fingers were clumsy with exhaustion and he gave the conclusion one last cursory glance before stapling the corners together and tucking it into his backpack. It was pretty shit, he knew it, but Keith was beyond caring and sorely regretting ever taking this class. 

“ _Take this anthropology course_ , Lance said,” he grumbled to himself as he quickly dressed. He zipped up his jeans and fumbled around for his student ID, which he’d taken out his wallet for whatever reason. “ _You’ll never find a more interesting professor in the department_ , he said,” he sighed. Well. Maybe he would have liked it more if he hadn’t put off the final paper (a 15-page monster of an assignment) to the very last minute. Stress had a way of curdling his interest like pickle juice in already-expiring milk. Keith checked his cellphone one last time before heading out, relieved to see that he had just enough time to grab some coffee before walking the rest of the way to his 7am class. Maybe he could find a Starbucks, he crossed his fingers. 

He walked past the kitchen, where Pidge had left the guts of their late Mr. Coffee in a disordered pile on the counter. The perpetrator was nowhere to be found, likely holed up in the Computer Science library on campus since the previous day. Keith did a final check for his keys, charger, and paper before locking the door and hurrying down the three flights of stairs to the street level. It was still early, but he saw a few people milling about. The road already filled with the start of the usual morning crowd and Keith sped up, wondering if it would get him to the nearest Starbucks in time to beat the morning rush. 

About a block off from the chain coffee shop, Keith halted right in his tracks. There was a curiously warm, sweet scent permeating from behind _Rags to Riches_ , a local thrift shop. He had a really weird sense of déjà vu for a long second, but he couldn’t remember ever walking in this direction from his flat. He followed it to a small stone courtyard, where sat two stone benches and a sputtering fountain. No one would stoop to the point of saying it was crowded, but it was hardly deserted. A respectable amount of people sat chatting quietly around the courtyard, all holding the kind of to-go cup with a very distinctive logo. A café just a few feet away, bearing the same logo on its glass storefront, beckoned to him. _Come in, Keith_ , it seemed to call. _Who cares that you have to be in class soon? Sit, relax, indulge._

Well, maybe he could step in. It would be for just a moment! He took his coffee black, simple, and he couldn’t get through the aftermath of an all-nighter without coffee.

It was with these justifications that Keith stepped cautiously across the threshold of the shop, whereupon he was immediately assaulted with the heavy, nutty smell of freshly brewed coffee. The buttery air of fresh croissants wafted over to him from beyond the pastry counter and Keith salivated involuntarily. He stepped into line behind two giggling women, pressed close together as they tried to decide what to order. The atmosphere, warmed by the smells and the quiet chatter of a Monday morning, was nothing like he’d ever seen in any Starbucks. Where had this place been all my life, he nearly whimpered.

“Welcome to the _Java-Lin_ ,” the man at the counter greeted him warmly. Keith, still lost for a moment in near sensory-overload, took a minute to respond. When he finally refocused, the man repeated his greeting, to his utter embarrassment, and Keith stammered through what he hoped was a polite response. “Is this your first time here?” the man (“Hunk,” his nametag read in jolly orange lettering) asked. Hunk, huh? Fitting, he thought faintly as he took in the barista’s kind face. _He has a good face_ , Keith’s mind went a little blank before he pulled himself out of his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Keith laughed shortly, covering his mouth quickly as a yawn overtook his mouth. Hunk grinned, guessing that he looked like someone who stayed up all night. “How can you tell?” he said, forcing his eyes wider to appear more awake. 

“This is a college town and you keep yawning, it’s not exactly Sherlock Holmes stuff.” Hunk explained. 

“Maybe I’m just not a morning person,” he countered, grinning back. What was he doing? In a small corner of his mind, he was annoyed that he was wasting time flirting with the barista instead of heading to his 7am. He couldn’t afford another late morning, especially not on an assignment due date. 

A voice, high and feminine, called out of the back. “Hunk, dear, stop flirting with the customers and take their order!” 

Hunk flushed, and Keith noted with glee that the red rush of blood to his very brown cheeks could be seen. How utterly adorable. He pointedly ignored the way his own neck suddenly felt boiling hot. He pressed his palm against his cheek discreetly, trying to cool his face down. “Sorry, Ma,” Hunk called back, and Keith was delighted once more. A family-run café? Seriously, where had this place been the entire time he’d gone to school here? 

“You heard the lady,” Hunk said, clearing his throat self-consciously. “What can I get you?”

 _Your number?_ “Uhh,” Keith hesitated, looking up at the giant chalkboard menu spanning the wall behind the counter. “I’m not sure, what would you recommend to someone who didn’t get any sleep?”

“You mean other than a long nap?” Hunk laughed at his own joke. “Maybe a Black Eye?”

“Which is….?”

“Regular drip coffee with two shots of espresso. I normally wouldn’t recommend it but you look real tired, buddy. Not that I think you look weird or anything? I mean, you look good, even with those… _bags under your eyes_ ,” Hunk trailed off, the last bit nearly whispered as he avoided eye contact. Keith smiled, a little giddy. 

“That sounds--perfect,” Keith sighed deeply. “Just what the doctor ordered.”

“Cream? Sugar? Name on the cup?” Hunk asked, marker poised. 

“Oh! Right. No to both and Keith. My name’s Keith.” He reached into his pocket for his wallet. He pulled out whatever bills he had in the first fold and Hunk laughed a little as he took the five and handed back the twenty. Their fingers brushed as Keith took the bill and he nearly dropped his wallet as he tried to put the money away. _A cup of coffee does not cost $25, Keith_ , Hunk said and Keith stammered again through what he hoped was an intelligible response. 

“It’ll be a few minutes, Keith, but you can wait over there,” Hunk said, pointing to an area to the side of the counter. There was a hanging sign above the area that read “PICK UP.” Keith nodded and left a few dollars’ tip before taking his place near the two ladies from before, who’d stopped giggling and were discussing something with serious faces. Hunk occasionally glanced over at him as he took orders and Keith warmed each time he caught his eye and smiled. When his order was ready, a short woman with skin as dark as Hunk’s and a thin septum ring called out the name on the cup. 

“Uhh, I’ve got a Black Eye for a ‘Tall, Dark and Handsome’?” She glanced back at the cup in puzzlement, mild disgust filtering over her expression. “Really, Hunk? I’m telling Ma.” Keith was struck by the awful sense that everyone in the shop was looking at him and laughing, but he forced himself to walk up to the counter anyway. His scarf, a late knitted birthday gift from Lance, felt like an overwarm snake around his neck and he couldn’t help trying to hide his face behind it. 

“Um, I think that’s mine…” he said, looking at anything but the lady. She handed it to him and eyed him suspiciously for a long moment before moving away from the pick-up area. Keith took a careful sip of his drink, reveling in the sharply acidic blend of the coffee and espresso. Maybe he should have asked for a little sugar, though. He screwed his eyes shut for a second. It was really bitter. He looked at the cup, where Hunk had actually written _tall dark and handsome_ in block-style lettering. To his surprise, he’d also written his number and an encouraging _call me?_ in the same hand. He took another careful sip and wondered, was it only his imagination or did it actually taste sweeter? 

He caught Hunk’s eye again as he turned to leave, and waved back as the man smiled shyly at him before returning his attention to the customer at the counter. He was so preoccupied by his smile that he walked right into the glass door. _Fuck_. He could hear a surprised laugh from behind the counter, nearly obscured by the voices of the other customers. His face burned and there was a new ache blossoming on his cheek, but his dignity had taken a greater hit. 

Keith hurried through the courtyard once he left the shop, the crisp fall air biting at his warm cheeks. He had maybe fourteen minutes to get to class, so he would have to sprint if he wanted to make it. Well, power-walk, since he didn’t want to spill hot coffee all over himself. But it was worth it, he sighed wistfully. Wait, was worth it? He was nearing lateness, left with a lighter wallet and might never be able to show his face at the _Java-Lin_ again without recalling that feeling of complete and utter embarrassment. 

But. Keith looked at the paper cup in his hand as he waited for the cross-walk to turn green and ran his thumb over the phone number Hunk had painstakingly written, each digit clearly distinguishable from its neighbors. Yeah, he stood by his original judgement. Totally worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> early bird gets the worm, pretty bird gets the guy


End file.
